Days in the Life of a Country
by applechan53
Summary: Some of America's best and worst points throughout history.
1. Dust Bowl

"Hey guys, sorry!" a familiar obnoxious voice calls from the hallway. The countries gathered around the giant wooden table turn to look at the door, where America is running up to them, looking more than a little rushed.

"America," Germany says, seething, "would you care to explain why you're two hours late to a meeting _in Canada_?" Canada, who finally got his turn to host the meeting, is now sitting alone again; forgotten.

"Um… just a little money trouble back home," America says, taking a seat between England and Japan. "It's nothing."

Germany gives him a calculating look, as if judging his sincerity. "Very well, then. I'll assume you have the situation under control." He nods once, then sits back down. Everyone knows that the Great Depression hit America hardest.

"Are you sure you're alright, America?" England whispers. The younger country looks up at him and fear flickers across his face for just a second, before it's gone; replaced by his usual cocky grin.

"I'm fine, dude, don't worry about me," he whispers back, trying to sound as much like Canada as possible so they won't get caught talking.

England, still suspicious, turns away. His timing is horrible; just a second later, America starts breathing out dust. _I hope nobody saw that,_ he thinks, looking around.

For a little while, he tries to nonchalantly cover his mouth with his brown bomber jacket to hide the dust. But then, it gets worse. His vision goes completely black.

At first, he expects everyone to start panicking in the dark, but when the meeting just continues as if nothing happened, the ailing country begins to get scared. But, being a hero, he must bear his burdens alone.

So he sits like that through the entire meeting; feeling more and more worried as each minute ticks by on a now-invisible clock. _What's going on back home?_ he thinks. _Why am I blind?_

Suddenly, he realizes that the talking has stopped, except for one voice. It's an unrecognizable one, but still, he tunes in. _"…we're here in New York… engulfed in dust… wind picked up dirt from the Great Plains… expected to have covered 100,000,000 acres by the time it's finished… we advise you to lock….close..."_ The sound fades away, but it doesn't really matter anymore. Even though he can't see anything, he can feel everybody's eyes on him.

"America…" England says, and he feels a small touch on his shoulder. The shock makes him flinch so much he literally flies out of his chair. He picks himself up and rubs his eyes. "How long has this been going on?" the English man asks.

"Since the beginning of this meeting, I think," America says. "I-I can't see anything. And I feel so quiet inside…" He's shaking. The greatest country in the world is shaking on his knees, head over ears trying to block out the silence.

Someone puts another hand on his shoulder, but this time he doesn't even flinch. It's Canada. "You can stay at my house, okay?" he says quietly. America just nods.

"I'm coming with," England says. "You'll need my help dealing with this one for any amount of time. I _did _raise him, you know."

Suddenly, an image of the Statue of Liberty completely engulfed in dirt flashes in America's mind, and he screams. The darkness just became even more absolute! It's as if he could never even remember seeing anything in the first place. He can't remember what England's face looks like, or Canada's bear, or the Sun or grass or even hamburgers! "I can't see," he whimpers, "I can't even _remember _seeing."

"We're going home now," Canada tells everyone, being more forceful than usual. "England, you're stronger than me. Please carry him out to the car."

America feels himself being lifted up, albeit not easily, and carried outside. In about a minute, he feels himself being set back down, and then the movement of a car. "We're going to Canada's?" he asks.

"Yes," England says. "Now let me drive. You Americans drive on the bloody _wrong _side of the road!"

America laughs a little, but doesn't retort. It's then that England realizes the full extent of his former charge's fear. Usually, he would have insisted that the _Europeans _drove wrong, and that since _his _home was the one that the car was invented in, _he _was the one who drove the right way. It was actually a valid argument, but England would never admit it.

"Don't worry," England says in what he hopes is a comforting tone. "Once the storm passes, it'll all be okay again."

America does seem a little comforted by this, but he's still completely terrified. "I don't like this," he whispers, "I can't remember anything; not the sight of my flag in the breeze, not the juicy layers of a hamburger… not even the bad things, like the bloody soldiers who lost their lives fighting their countrymen. I know all about these things, but there are no pictures in my mind to match them to. I'm going to drown in the blackness…"

The car stops abruptly, and America lurches forward a bit. "We're here," England says, trying to keep his voice from being too thick. He doesn't want America to know he's so worried he's _crying._

In Canada's house, all America wants to do is lie down somewhere and sleep, and, hoping it's good for him, the other two allow it.

Even America's dreams are black.

Epilogue

One day, America wakes up, expecting another day of complete darkness, when he realizes that he can see light! It's just a little, and it's sepia-toned, but it's light all the same. When England walks in, he immediately tells him the good news.

"Really?" England says, dropping the tea cup he was holding. "That's great!" He gives the joyous country a hug.

When Canada hears, he insists they celebrate with a pancake breakfast (England wanted to make scones, but America told him he wasn't allowed in the kitchen while he was there).

As the days pass, America's vision gets gradually better, and each day the outlines get more and more clear. Finally, after another couple weeks, the remaining dust is completely cleared, and America runs around, looking at everything, overjoyed at being able to put pictures with his memories again.

* * *

**Hi! Please don't hurt me; I know I should be working on Past Recount! But I was watching that "America: The Story of Us" thing, and I got a good idea, which led to another good idea, which led to a third good idea. I'm gonna be writing two more America one-shots under this title, but I promise I'll have the next chapter for PR done by next Friday!**

**In fact, this should probably be done really soon, anyway.**

**Ciao!**


	2. September 11

The meeting was supposed to start at 8. Key word there being _supposed _to. But by 8:29, England and France are still fighting over who was a better cook (there really shouldn't have been much of a fight there), Italy is still fast asleep, Greece is still having a lazy argument with Turkey while petting his cats, Romano is still pestering Spain, Prussia is still messing with Austria and Hungary, Russia is still bullying the Baltic States while simultaneously hiding from Belarus, and Norway is still trying to make Iceland call him "onii-chan".

The clock ticks on, and the time becomes 8:30. Germany has finally had enough. "Everyone… SHUT UP!" he yells, "I am hereby reinstating the 8-minute speech rule. You all know what that is, but since you're so think-headed I'll reiterate. Each person gets 8 minutes to speak, and nothing more! Now, Italy, start!" He points to his friend, who has just woken up.

"Well, um… I think we should all go eat some pasta…"

As the other countries try to listen to Italy's meaningless babble, America, as usual, is sitting in his chair, eating a hamburger. _I'll go third_, he thinks, _since three is an awesome number. _So, he waits as patiently as he can as the clock turns from 8:30 to 8:38 and Japan gets up to speak, then again as it turns from 8:38 to 8:45.

At the last minute, America feels a sharp pang in his chest, but ignores it. It's about to be his turn. Japan sits down at exactly 8:46, and he stands up, ready to speak. But the second he does, the pang turns to a burning sensation that spreads through him, making him double over. "America-san!" Japan yells, running over to help his friend. England does the same, abandoning the argument he and France had already started up again.

"Blimey, what's happened to you?" England asks, trying to figure out how to help his former charge. "You look like one of your cities is-" he pales. "Turn on the television!" he yells over his shoulder.

"_We're here at the World Trade Center, where the North Twin Tower has just been hit by what looks like a jumbo jet. If you look behind me, you'll see that the South Tower is still intact…" _ The minute hand ticks to 9:03. _"Oh my… the South Tower has been hit! It's…" _The reporters next words are drowned out by America's screaming as another burst of pain spreads through him.

"America-san… I'm sorry," Japan says softly. Situations like this have always been awkward for him.

The other countries continue to intently focus on the news, listening to tragedy after tragedy. Liechtenstein can't even bear to watch it, and starts crying into her brother's arm. Italy's mouth is frozen in an "O", Denmark is actually silent for once, even Russia seems upset. All the girls, even Hungary, are in tears, as well as some of the boys- especially Canada, who can't tear his blurry eyes away from the screen.

Then, at 9:37, they hear another scream as a third plane crashes into the Pentagon. America seems to be almost unconscious the pain is so great, but not quite. He feels like his whole body has been burned to ashes then pieced back together with a thousand needles.

"_… the country is in tatters; people have taken days off of work to feel safe... this day, September 11, will forever go down in infamy…" _ The reporter continues to talk for almost another half hour, and America tries to calm himself down enough to listen.

"Shhh, shhh…" England says, petting the tortured country's head like he used to when he was still a kid. "It'll all be alright, you'll see." America calms down a little, but he's still in too much agony to say anything.

Finally, at 10:03, America lets out one final scream, and passes out.

A minute or so later, the reporter says, "_We've just received word that a fourth plane has crashed in Shanksville, Pennsylvania, on its way to the White House. It is presumed that the passengers fought the terrorists and managed to divert the jet from its original course, losing their lives in the process. They are true American heroes…" _ Everyone in the room is silent. They watch the news for another three hours, but when no more new information is released, Germany turns it off.

"Japan, England… take America back to the hotel," he says. The nod solemnly and carry him away. "Everyone else… we are adjourned for today…" They don't say anything, just leave. Germany himself feels like crying. "A day to go down in infamy… huh?" Some country is going to pay dearly for this when America heals.

Back at the hotel, America is still out cold, but neither England nor Japan have the heart to leave him. Other countries have been leaving food and other things outside the door; Canada even left a giant stack of pancakes with a whole bottle of maple syrup.

Later that night, Prussia and Denmark pay their friend and fellow narcissist a visit. "Hey buddy," Prussia says gently, "that was so not awesome."

America, who just woke up, shakes his head. "No, way." He tries to smile,but his face muscles just won't let him.

"Yo! Me an' the other Nordic's all wish ya luck," Denmark says. "Especially Finland. He was, like, hysterical."

"Thanks," America says.

England speaks up, "You should probably let him rest. I don't think he has the energy for that 'Awesome Trio' thing or whatever it is you call it."

"Aw, but-" Prussia whines, but Japan stops him.

"He needs rest. If you all are going to hinder him, then I will see to it that you are not allowed back in this room for the rest of the trip."

"Fine," the two say in unison, holding up their hands and walking out the door.

* * *

Epilogue: 10 Years Later

America and the other countries stand by Ground Zero, the sun beating down on them. "It's already been ten years…" America whispers, so quietly that only England and Japan, who're at his sides, can hear.

"Yes…" England says sadly.

On this day, America is never his usual cheerful self. Instead, he's quiet and sad; never even smiling. He listens silently as George W. Bush and Barak Obama reflect on the events of a decade ago in solemn reverence.

World Trade Center One already reaches high into the sky, and it's only halfway finished. The structure gives America hope every time he sees it, even though it can never replace the Twin Towers he lost.

After the memorial service is over, America walks up on Ground Zero and sits down, remembering each and every person who died here or anywhere else on that fateful day. He sits there as the clock works diligently, finishing another day's rotation. It is now 12:01, September 12, 2011.

* * *

**Hi! It's applechan53! I hope you liked this next installment of Days in the Life of a Teenage Country! I'm sorry it's so sporadic throughout history!**

**I just HAD to put Japan in this one, since after WWII America and Japan became friends and all. I always thought that would be sooooo cute! So anything I put in here after WWII era will probably include Japan. BTW, that means that I may be adding some other historical events to this fanfic besides the next one, which was gonna be the last.**

**Thanks for reading! (And yes, I am simultaneously working on Past Recount, so don't be mad!)**

**SayoNAra!**


	3. Civil War

_Is this how England felt? _America thinks as he squints at the table where his glasses, that he put down for just a moment, are gone. The date is February 4, 1861, South Carolina, Texas, and 5 other states have just declared war on the United States, which isn't looking so united anymore.

America's glasses are gone, along with a few internal organs. He has no idea where they went, just that as long as he doesn't give up, they may still come back. In the mean time, though, he's helpless as the "Union" fight to revive their great nation.

England, upon hearing the news, almost runs over Queen Victoria in his attempt to reach the divided country. He knows _exactly _what's going to happen to the USA during this time, having had multiple civil wars before himself. Just remembering the pain is enough to send him flying for the nearest steamboat.

Meanwhile, in Washington DC, the capital of what is now the Union, America is only getting worse. Without Texas, his vision is too blurry to see much of anything, and his head constantly spins. It's gotten to the point where the country can't even sit up without a huge wave of nausea threatening to send him to the nearest bathroom. All he can do is sleep; even his appetite was taken from him.

"America!" England yells one day, throwing the doors open. "Are you alright? I- oh no…" The older nation stares at the once-great country lying before him.

"E-England?" America asks softly, voice hoarse. There are tears in his sparkling blue eyes. "What are you-" England puts a hand on the sick country's mouth and pushes him back down, as he had been attempting to sit up.

"You need to keep lying down. Don't worry; in due time you'll get used to this. It won't hurt as bad, and you can go kick that Jefferson Davis's sorry butt," England assures him, albeit in an angry tone.

"But… I can't see anything! I need Texas to see, and… and… I don't feel like eating! I have no appetite!" The divided country begins to cry again, and England gets more worried. America _always _feels like eating. No matter what. Suddenly, an idea occurs to him. "Do you want me to get your brother?"

The young nation looks up, a slight smile on his lips. Nodding slowly, he replies, "Yeah. I wanna see Canada." England smiles softly at the man's childlike innocence- even while in so much pain- and pats him on the head. "I'll be back in a few weeks, then. Get a lot of sleep, and _do not- _under _any circumstances- _leave this room. Promise me."

Dejectedly, America nods. "I promise."

Appeased, the elder of the two smiles and walks out of the room.

* * *

Three weeks pass, and America still isn't doing any better. Every day, he sits and waits for England and Canada to arrive, and every day he's disappointed. The feeling only fuels his headache, and by the time the two arrive, America couldn't have gotten out of bed if he'd wanted to. "America?" Canada asks incredulously, "I didn't think- I mean, England said you were bad, but-"

"He's worse," England says, "he hasn't had sufficient time to recover from the initial blow." Then, turning to the ailing nation, "How do you feel?"

"Like hell warmed over," is all America replies. His arm is over his eyes, and he's breathing much too heavily.

"Let's see…" England mutters, digging through a bag of medical supplies he brought knowing full well he'd need it. "Ah! Here we are!" he exclaims, pulling out a bottle of pills. "This will numb the pain, but also put you to sleep in the process. Want it?"

America stares hesitantly at the drug, unsure of just how well it works, before nodding his head slowly. The elder country brings him some water and a couple little white pills, and the ailing man downs them both in one gulp.

The medicine is fast-acting. Within a minute or two, America can hardly keep his eyes open, and as he falls into a dreamless sleep, the last thing he sees is his family's comforting faces...

For four or so years, America continues to feel better, then crash again, in an endless cycle, until April 9th, 1865, the day General Lee surrendered and the Union became whole again.

The great nation holds a giant party celebrating his united land on April 14th, not even a week after his victory, and invites all the countries, including Cuba (although the America-hater has _no_ intention of going).

But after a few hours of partying and drinking, the festivities are cut short by one of America's servants crashing into the giant meeting hall. "America! It's Lincoln!" the man yells worriedly. The two run out of the room in a panic.

The next day, on April 15, 1865, at 7:22 am, after being in a coma for 9 hours, Abraham Lincoln, arguably the greatest U.S. President to have ever lived, dies. Alfred locks himself in his room for days, refusing to speak to anybody. He knew the president personally; they were good friends. Abe was an honest man who was an eloquent speaker and always put up with America's antics, no matter how bad they got.

On April 19, the mourning nation picks himself up, throws on some nice-looking clothes, and heads out to his friend's funeral. There, he meets up with Mary Todd Lincoln, now a grieving wife, and spends a good amount of time trying to console her. After the service, he leaves, not wanting to stay and eat anything for once in his life.

For years after that, although he keeps up a happy façade, America can't help but miss his old friend and savior. But time heals all wounds, and just by having England, Matthew, and his other country companions around, the nation slowly starts to regain his _real _happiness…

Epilogue:

"Heeeey! England! Guess what?" an obnoxious man yells, running over to an annoyed ex-empire.

"_What _you bloody git?" England snaps, but America's smile never falters.

"It's the 100th anniversary of the end of the Civil War!" the nation exclaims delightedly, "And I'm throwing a family party! Matthew's coming, along with Australia, your brothers, and maybe some other guys!"

"_My brothers _are going?" England asks, face pale. He's seen what those guys can do on alcohol. "Fine. I'll come. But just to make sure nobody dies."

"Great! Be ready by 5. We're going to America!" the younger man yells, running out of the room with his hands in the air. England shakes his head. That kid can get over things so fast.

* * *

**Hey! It's applechan53! It's been so long since I've updated... don't kill me! I should have another one up pretty soon, but if anyone has any ideas...**

**I had to put the date General Lee surrendered in here, since I'm proud to say that that day just ****_happens _****to be one of the best days of the year: my birthday! XD I feel so important! But I also feel like Prussia for feeling important, and as much as I love Prussia... I think I'm knocked back down to size now...**

**Well, if I don't have another story up in the next week or two, feel free to call England to summon Russia to force me to become one with him. I'll deserve it.**


	4. Great Depression

October 29, 1929 starts out like any other day. Our beloved United States of America wakes up, goes back to sleep, wakes up again, exchanges his hamburger footie pajamas for the usual bomber jacket uniform, eats a healthy breakfast of hamburgers and Fruit Loops, and runs out the door to the airport so he can reach Paris, where the next world meeting is being held, by noon.

The plane ride is normal. Canada sits next to America, where he is promptly sat upon by a hungry man in search of one of America's hundreds of hamburgers, the flight attendants hit on the two countries repeatedly until the annoyed men have to pay them to go away. Also, America will not stop talking the entire flight.

Paris is the same as always. Mimes perform in the streets, artists work on the corners, and the Eiffel Tower stands tall against the cityscape. The nations land a Terminal 3, or so America thinks (French is hard for him!) and run out onto the busy streets, bypassing security with their status. Almost instantly, they're surrounded by lovey-dovey tourists, poor painters, hobos, and annoyed businessmen. Pushing through the crowd, Canada and America finally manage to hail a taxi. "Paris is no different than ever," America mumbles under his breath before giving directions to the driver.

"Oh, maple!" Canada whispers, looking at his watch. "Driver, hurry up please. We're going to be late!" Of course, his pleas go unnoticed.

After what feels like an eternity of driving (on the wrong side of the road, according to America), the meeting house, a light brick building covered in climbing roses and stone cherubs, comes into view. It's roof is soft lavender, the columns are cherry blossom pink, and the door is not unlike one in a fairytale castle. "France _really _needs to rethink this design," America observes, staring at the, to put it bluntly, girly building before him. It's almost embarrassing to walk inside.

As usual, the meeting room is in chaos. France and England are fighting about, of course, France's poor exterior decorating skills, Prussia is annoying Germany to no end, Austria and Hungary are having another quarrel about some stupid thing, Greece is sleeping through Turkey's incessant insults with a cat cuddled in his arm, Japan is attempting in vain to keep the two far away from each other, Russia is bullying China and the Baltic States to release his fear of Belarus, who decided to attend in order to spend time with her "beloved Russia", Norway and Iceland are teaming up to choke Denmark, Finland is begging them to stop while Sweden pulls him away, Sealand is playing with a toy plane, Spain is hugging an angry Romano who's yelling at Italy, who's crying over a split plate of spaghetti, Switzerland is trying to resist the urge to pull out his gun and shoot everybody while Liechtenstein strikes up a lively conversation with Ukraine, Poland is babbling on about his pink pony to anyone who'll listen, which is nobody, Wy and Seborga are arguing, Romania is trying to hit Hungary, but is afraid of her frying pan, which is out in plain sight, Seychelles is attempting to get off England's leash, which he's keeping a tight hold on, Hong Kong is talking with Taiwan… the standard meeting procedure.

"Hey guys!" America yells, catching everyone's attention. "What'd I miss?"

Everyone suddenly seems to remember where they are, and take their seats. Germany, looking relieved as Prussia sulks back to his own seat between Hungary and Austria, gets up and says, "Okay, anyone want to start?"

America's hand shoots up immediately. "I wanna!" he yells, remembering that when Canada started the meeting, Germany gave him a donut after. It may have been because America took Canada's first donut, but whatever.

"Okay, America. You know the drill," Germany concedes with a nod, taking his seat between Italy and Japan.

"Cool! Well, I was thinking, and I think it would be totally awesome to make a giant-" America begins, pulling out his sketchpad for illustrations. But at that moment, his body starts shaking. All of a sudden, America feels weak, dizzy, and feverish as the stock market on Wall Street crashes, creating the day forever known in history as "Black Tuesday".

"America?" England asks, noticing his former charge looks pale. "America, are you alright?"

"America!" Canada yells or, rather, says at average pitch. But his volume doesn't matter, since all the nations' attention is focused on his brother. Panicking, the quiet country runs over and catches his brother just as he starts to collapse.

"What's going on?" Germany yells. Nobody knows.

"Everyone keep carm," Japan says smoothly, "I wirr be turning on the radio now."

As the device switches on, for once the meeting room is completely silent. _"We're here on Wall Street where the national economy is rapidly collapsing. The stock market crashed a few minutes ago, and the United States of America is in a state of panic as people desperately attempt to sell their stocks. We recommend-"_

Germany switched off the radio, and everyone stares at the thing for what seems like an age. "Shouldn't we be getting America home?" Norway asks finally in his calm way, shocking everybody out of silence.

"Actually," England speaks up, "I think we should all congregate in one place for the time being. In a few days, we'll probably all be in America's position. Our economies are so closely tied together…"

"For once, I agree with the former delinquent," France agrees, "The world economy is closer together than ever before. We should all stay in one place so the medics will have an easier time taking care of us. That, and we can support each other and make sure we all come out alive."

Everyone stares at the usually creepy country in shock. For one thing, the "frog" never agrees with England. For another, he just made a _valid point!_

"Me and my brothers will stay," Denmark yells, ignoring his "brothers'" angry glares.

"Hungary and I'll stay," Prussia says, grabbing the girl's arm. She stares at him like he's gone mad.

"Well then I'm definitely staying!" Austria exclaims, grabbing Hungary's other arm and shooting daggers at Prussia with his eyes.

"I'll call my brothers; they'll come, too," England puts in.

One by one, the countries agree to staying in Paris until the worst is over. It's the first time in history all they've been able to make _any _decision, let alone a unanimous one.

As the weeks pass, the countries' economies fall one by one, although some of them got off better than others. Japan in particular, recovered pretty well by 1931, and went home.

For years, some countries sat in Paris, trying to wait out the pain as their countries went on the slow path to recovery. Unfortunately, just as some countries' outlooks were beginning to get better, a certain German psychopath started WWII, but that's another story…

* * *

**Ohaiyogozaimasu! It's applechan53! And... don't kill me... I'll be putting this on a short hiatus until I've got enough inspiration to write a French Revolution oneshot. Don't blame me, blame Les Miserables for being just to dang awesome! And also a Russian meteor one, since I REALLY want to do that. So... if I don't get stories up for those in the next couple months, I'll just give up and start with this again, ne? But if I get something done before then... well, I'll do a few more of these! **

**^ ^ But it's getting kind of hard to juggle two stories at once with my getting busier schedule, so I may have to put all stories on hold until summer vacation starts, which is actually May 22 for me! But I've got summer homework, so my free time won't really start until a few days later since I'm doing it right away so I don't forget about it *sweat drop*.**

**Well, I hope you like this! And I can use some suggestions of periods in history you want to see for when I start this up again. I'm running out of inspiration!**


	5. December 12, 2012

There America is, innocently listening to the radio in his new Ford, when the announcer announces, "…there have been predictions that the world will end on 12/21/12…"

The American's hands grip the wheel so tightly his knuckles become white. "What? Th-that can't be right…" he mumbles. But no matter what news station he flips to, the message is the same: the world is going to end in just a few days. "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" he screams, and pulls over onto the side of the road. "I-I gotta call Iggy! That's it! Iggy's old, so he must know what to do!" With that, he takes out his cell phone and dials the Brit's number.

"What is it _now,_ America?" England asks.

"E-e-e-end… the world is… IGGY HELP ME THE WORLD IS GONNA END!" he screams into the receiver. Over in the UK, England pulls the phone away from his ear and winces.

The Englishman sighs and brings the cell back up to his ear. "America, how many times have we been over this? The world _is not _going to end. If it was, it would have happened in 1000 AD, or 1999. If it didn't happen then, it won't happen now."

"But all the news stations are talking about it! If the news says something, it _must _be true!" America insists.

"The news reporters covered Y2k, too, in case you don't remember, but _that _didn't happen," England says, pinching the bridge of his nose. Did he really raise this idiot?

"But…"

"If you don't have anything _important _to talk about, then I must be going. It's almost time for tea," England tells America before snapping his phone closed.

"SINCE WHEN DO YOU HAVE TEA AT 9:00 IN THE MORNING!?" America screams into the receiver, but it's too late. "Okay, okay… there's not a problem… there's no problem… I know! I'll call Japan! He had his own end-of-the-world scare a few years ago."

"Moshi moshi," Japan answers his chiming cell phone.

"Hey Japan! The world's ending!" America yells in lieu of a greeting.

Japan facepalms at his American friend's ignorance, and tells him, "If Nostradamus was not correct in his predictions, then why would some nameless person be?" Without waiting for a reply, he closes his phone and goes back to relaxing under his kotatsu table…

"STUPID JAPAN!" America yells into the dead phone. "F-Fine! I'll call Canada! H-he'll help me."

"Hello?" Canada whispers into his phone.

"Canada it's terrible! The world is ending!" America screams for the third time today.

"I'll be right over," Canada says, and hangs up. Grateful, America climbs back in his Ford and drives home…

Canada arrives at America's house three hours later with bags packed to stay a couple nights. "What's wrong?" he asks.

"Waaa Canada! Th-th-the world's gonna end in a few days!" America cries, hugging his brother and Kumajirou tightly.

Canada sighs. He at least knows better than to try to talk America out of this kind of thing. "I guess I'll stay here and we can have an American movie marathon until then end, eh?"

America lets go. "R-really? Can we have hamburgers and ice cream?"

"As long as you let me make pancakes," Canada concedes.

"YAY!" he exclaims, "I'll go pick out all the best movies! This is gonna be awesome!"

Epilogue: A few days later at 12:00 midnight…

"Hey Canada! Let's watch the whole Harry Potter series next!" America yells, "Come on!"

"America, it's time for bed. You haven't slept in three days," Canada says.

"Wait… three days? Wasn't there was something important happening today…? Well, it's done anyway! Harry Potter time!"

Canada sighs and resigns himself to watching the entire Harry Potter series… probably twice…

* * *

**Hi~! It's applechan53! Imma back!**

**So... this was just a cute little drabble thing I came up with when trying to think of other suitable things to write about... I'm drawing a blank, but that's okay since I'm only gonna do a couple more of these! Well, I hope you enjoyed what is possibly the shortest story I've ever made!**


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